


Vacancy

by CykaSpace



Series: Original Works [3]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Anxiety, Band Fic, Depression, Descriptions Of Eyes, Descriptions Of Sweat, Gen, Possible Lovers, Strong Friendship - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-20
Updated: 2019-02-20
Packaged: 2019-11-01 10:08:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17865302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CykaSpace/pseuds/CykaSpace
Summary: A short fic I created recently. Slightly sad with undertones of depressing but a happy ending.From the prompt "Please, don't leave."





	Vacancy

**Author's Note:**

> FBSRO

1989

 

The lightning and thunder clung to each other like a peg clinging to film. The rain fell in fast, heavy drops which thundered against the thin windows in the house. Milk bottles lined the doorsteps of everyone, the rain hitting them and knocking some of them over and shattering them into clear, fine pieces that took on the appearance of gentle shards of ice. A petrichor scent from the previous storm found its way in through a crack in the bottom of the hard oaken door, seeping into the dark house, touching everything it saw. The ink-black kettle sat nestled atop the stove next to the glass ash-tray. 

 

Nicholas gently pushed open Kyle's bedroom door and peered inside. Kyle laid on his bed, sprawled out with his eyes wide open and his long, wavy blond hair stuck to his face. He was sticky with sweat and his face was pale yet he kept a vacant gaze on the ceiling, seemingly indifferent to the state he was in. Graham, Alicks and Nicholas' rooms were different to Kyle's; they all had posters, tapes, records, books, their respected instruments and the bare essentials inside. All that was in Kyle's room was his double bed, bedside table, a broken lamp, a wardrobe and his drumsticks. The dirty cream curtains were stained with cigarette smoke and incense. Moonlight poured through the dark room and lit up Kyle's face with a sliver of silver, highlighting the sweat on his face and neck. Nicholas padded over the salt-white carpet that had been subjected to cigarette ashes and gazed at the younger man.

'Oh Kyle,' he whispered and reached out his arm to touch the blond's face. Kyle turned and grasped Nicholas' wrist through his coat. Nicholas stared at Kyle and noticed the state his eyes were in. His red-rimmed Aegean eyes were a deep contrast to his porcelain skin. The remnants of black eyeliner from their previous concert ever-present.

'Please don't leave,' Kyle begged, barely above a whisper. Nicholas nodded and carefully pried Kyle's shaking hands off of his wrist. Discarding his black trench-coat by the side of the bed, Nicholas waited patiently for Kyle to move over on the bed to make room for him. Once Nicholas was quite sure that Kyle was comfortable, he gently lowered himself onto the other side of the bed and relaxed himself. Out of the corner of his eye, Nicholas noticed that Kyle was staring at him. Nicholas let him.

 

Nicholas had fallen asleep. Kyle took this as an opportunity to take in his appearance. Nicholas had chin-length, curly umber-brown hair with flecks of raven-black mixed in. His eyes were a mix of cobalt, pistachio and cinnamon that held a cold exterior but, upon closer inspection, a warm, homely feeling. His skin was a sort of parchment colour here in the moonlight. Kyle reached out and gently stroked Nicholas' cheek with the backs of his fingers. His face felt soft; freshly shaved. A small smile spread across Kyle's face.


End file.
